


Give It Back

by toesohnoes



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Gangbang, M/M, Multi, Organised Fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-11
Updated: 2011-08-11
Packaged: 2017-10-22 12:56:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/238234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toesohnoes/pseuds/toesohnoes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chekov organises a bonding exercise after their latest near-death experience. He is the main event.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Give It Back

Chekov whimpers as a new cock nudges its way between his cheeks. He's lost track of how many he's taken now - this might be the eighth. His limbs are trembling and white stars dance in his vision. He feels tender and used and _aching_.

He's never felt better in his life.

Hands skim over his body, tweaking at his nipples and combing through his curls. It all makes him whimper; it's all so much, too much, to be at the centre of the crew's attention. He can hear the warm murmur of conversation and appreciative moans, but he isn't able to pay attention to it.

A set of fingers slide over his jaw, gently guiding his head back up. The captain's thumb slides between his lips and Chekov takes it eagerly, running his tongue over the pad. He thinks, if the person behind him wasn't so rough, that he might be able to make a proper show of this. He could demonstrate all that he could do, how good he could make him feel, and then Kirk would never want to let him go.

Kirk's eyes are as dark as night, but it's his body that Chekov can't get enough of. He's tanned and fit and gorgeous - even with his body jerking and his hands shaking Chekov reaches out for him, barely able to stay upright for long enough to get his hands onto his skin.

Kirk's cock is long and proud. It's engorged and red, and Chekov's mouth waters at the sight. "You are so hot right now," Kirk says, with a half-laugh like he can't believe what he's seeing.

Chekov nods, barely paying attention. Kirk's cock is right in front of his face and that's all that he wants; he parts his lips and swallows it down. Kirk groans as if he's been punched. His hand slides into Chekov's hair and holds on tight, holding him still so that he can push deeper inside.

Filled from both sides, Chekov feels properly used and stuffed. Kirk and one of the other members of the crew both fuck him at once, finding a slow and steady rhythm. He has a function here, bringing them all together. They've been through so much in this ship; they need a reward. He wants to give it to them; he wants to _be_ the reward.

And if the sounds in the room are any indication, he's good at it. God, they all sound half-mad with lust. The walls are lined with people waiting to fuck him or people who already have. He's lost track of who he's taken now.

The captain plunders his mouth, fucking it with the end of his cock thumping against the back of Chekov's throat with every thrust. His eyes water but he takes it. He'll take anything.

Behind him, the person fucking him grunts and stills flush against his cheeks, coming inside his ass. Chekov moans around Kirk's cock as he is filled with spunk from the other side, but the moan turns to a whimper as the person behind him withdraws.

Only a moment passes before there is a new set of hands on his hips, a new dick nudging along his crack. He wants to look around and see who it is, but he wouldn't take his mouth off of Kirk, not for the world. Kirk is the captain; he is everything.

He is the reason that they are all still alive and the reason that they are all still together.

Chekov wants to give him all that he has.

His body shakes and thuds as he is fucked hard and mercilessly. He thinks he comes again, but it's lost in all of the other sensations. He's lost of how many orgasms his body has managed tonight; it feels like hundreds, but they aren't what holds his attention. Coming isn't important, not compared to all of the other men in the room, all of the others that he wants to suck and fuck and milk.

Kirk gives him no warning before he climaxes, but he half-pulls out before he does. His seed floods Chekov's mouth but splatters over his face as well, a scalding shower. Chekov swears, just to himself, and looks up through his tired eyelashes to find Kirk watching him with a grin on his face.

"Thank you," Kirk pants, pink-cheeked and grinning. He backs out of the way but he doesn't go far, staying in Chekov's line of sight as McCoy takes his place and presses his swollen cock between Chekov's pink lips.

By the end of the evening, when the crowd begins to diminish and people slip away to their rooms, Chekov's body is sore, bruised and thoroughly abused. He needs a shower badly, covered in dried come and sweat and spit. He smells - he can smell himself, and it isn't pleasant.

Despite the scent, he feels more content than he has done in years. He feels like he's been a part of something big, a part of something special - and he's made a lot of people happy tonight. He's made a lot of people feel connected to a part of a bigger whole.

"How are you feeling?" Kirk asks, watching him while they both get dressed.

Chekov is stiff and sore as he steps into his underwear. If he feels like this now, he knows that waking up tomorrow is going to be torture. "I will be fine," he answers with a bright smile.

Kirk's answer is a grin - there's a confident cockiness to it that Chekov wishes he could wear as easily. When he tries to look cool like the captain, it seems to come across as dorky or adorable. "Take tomorrow off; rest up. You've earned it."

"I enjoyed myself greatly," Chekov admits. He had been the one to suggest doing it in the first place - Kirk would never have done so, he's sure of that. While the captain could join it, it would hardly have been appropriate for him to ask one of his underlings to do it; instead, Chekov had arranged it himself. He had even sent out the invitations. "Thank you."

Kirk gives a laugh that sounds like a snort. "Yeah, no problem," he says. "I'm pretty sure the thank yous should go the other way around."

Chekov smiles graciously. He wants to stay and talk to Kirk; he would talk to him all day if he could. Yet his body is exhausted and his mind feels cloudy with the need to sleep. He doubts if he will be able to stay awake for long enough to be good company.

"I'd better go to bed," he says, backing off a step now that he is fully dressed and semi-respectable. "Captain? Later, once we have rested... If you wanted to visit me in my rooms, I would be happy to see you again."

He keeps the invitation vague and the smile on his face coy - but, before he leaves the room, he is sure that he sees the glint in Kirk's eyes that says he knows exactly what Chekov is offering again.


End file.
